Nora's Thoughts
by RhondaStar
Summary: When Nora is sitting in the courtroom what goes through her head?


Disclaimer: Don't own just borrowing.  
  
"If time is a healer, then all hearts that break, are put back together again, cause love heals the wounds it makes."  
  
1 Nora's Thoughts  
  
She entered the courtroom late, sneaking in and easing the door shut. Creeping to a seat hidden in the corner, one with a good view but keeping her identity discreet. She liked to watch her ADA's in action, it gave her some sense of pride, respect for the work they did. And this morning she'd had just about enough of politics and phone calls from the mayor, what was she supposed to be god damn superwoman – oh no she forgot, she only had to be Adam Schiff.  
  
Jack was the first to rise; she noticed how he leaned in to whisper something to Serena before standing up. The way he moved so unchanged after all this time, the grey in his hair the only real sign of age. It was still there, after all these years. That spark, that intensity, chemistry – she'd forgotten how dangerous it could be. She was no longer that young girl, full of excitement and wonder and passion. Some kind of innocent to what love can do – oh yes at times it feels amazing but in the end it brings pain, and that was what he had done. Hell what was she thinking, he'd never loved her, he was attracted to her - physically that was all. It was she who'd fallen, who'd taken it too far, who'd let him invade her life and become the centre of it. Well she'd certainly learnt from that mistake, funny how such an early heartbreak could scar her for life. She'd always been wary of relationships since, and she knew that, it was something she'd come to accept over the years, call it a default in her character – but she was adamant nobody would ever break her heart again.  
  
She watched the defendant rise and pledge to tell the truth, how many times had she observed that scene and how many times had she'd known they were blatantly lying. It was her belief that no matter who you were, some psychiatrist with every degree imaginable, you could never truly know somebody, never. No one person can understand what makes another work, what makes criminals do the things they do. The first time she'd been involved in a murder trial, a young girl, barely two years younger than herself, she had to excuse herself from the room and rush to the ladies to throw up. Those pictures of the battered body, stripped off dignity, not allowed to die in peace, still remain with her to this day. How could anybody understand what drives somebody to do that? There was no excuse, no perfectly reasonable explanation for harming another human being. She knew Jack understood that, after all he'd spent the first 18 years of his life dealing with abuse day in day out. It was one of the things that had kept them so close over the years, even after he'd walked away from her as a lover. Friendship was a difficult thing to maintain after you'd loved the guy, and not just any love but her first. No matter how you tried to walk away and shut those feelings down – still there was that glimmer inside that maybe one day he would feel the same and somehow it would work, though every sensible fibre of her being told her it wouldn't.  
  
If she closed her eyes she could pretend she wasn't here, anywhere but here. Back home, in the warmth of family, the easiness of knowing you're not permanently on show. The sheer joy of watching your siblings grow and be happy and being allowed to share in that happiness with them, something always welcoming about them no matter what you did wrong. Perhaps there was something in that, forgiveness, maybe that's why so many of the people who were convicted here still had homes to go to when they were released from jail. After all what else was there in life but to form some kind of connection with another living person, many if you were lucky. She wasn't talking about love, not the physical kind, but the admiration, friendship and respect you can hold for somebody. The comfort you find being in their presence and knowing they will always accept you, with all your faults, just as you learn to accept yourself. And yes, over the years she had learnt to do that – to accept herself.  
  
She opened her eyes and glanced around the courtroom, it occurred to her that perhaps it would appear she was asleep. She was listening though, in a fashion – and daydreaming too. She shouldn't, but it was Friday and the idea of the weekend was far too close for her to fully concentrate, it had been a long week. She stretched her legs out as much as possible behind the tight seats as she listened to him speaking. Jack McCoy, how that man still touched her, when the hell was she going to learn that you can't always have the things you want. That love isn't perfect, no orchestra appears when you kiss and 'the end' doesn't always mean just that. It had taken her many years to train herself not to flinch at his name, to not feel like she was 17 again. Yet somehow right now, in this melancholy mood, he could just turn around and sweep her off her feet. She smiled to herself; suppressing a laugh, imagine the look on the judge's face if he did. Oh goodness this was no good; she reached over and collected her things together. She should head back to the office; do some finishing off before the weekend, Jack would tell her the result later, or Serena. She stood up just as Jack turned around to take his seat and he glanced over at her and smiled warmly, a friendly smile. If only he would say it once, then before she died she would know that at one point in her life she too was loved. 


End file.
